


Coffee

by Caedmon



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Coffee, Drabble, F/M, Felicity Smoak - Freeform, Fluff, Oliver Queen - Freeform, One Shot, SO MUCH FLUFF, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4219563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver hasn't ever told anyone what he missed most on the island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> This was written and posted on tumblr for the MTV fandom challenge meme that's going around, so it was written kinda quickly. :) Hope you like it!
> 
> I own nothing but the mistakes.  
> Comments and kudos feed my soul and the muse.   
> clintasha-n-olicity@tumblr.com - come talk to me! (seriously. Come talk to me!)
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Felicity was an early riser. It was a habit she’d gotten into after college, when she decided to put her Zork days behind her and become a part of the corporate machine she had raged against. It took less than three months before she realized that her teenage rebellion had been stupid - she liked knowing that 6am existed, she liked wearing the pretty dresses, skirts and panda flats that she’d always mocked the corporate drones for wearing, and, God help her, she liked having blonde hair and wearing more feminine makeup like her mother. She liked the way it softened the lines of her face and lightened her eyes. She’d railed against all of these things, determined to never have anything to do with them. They were poison to her - symbols of surrendering her true identity. She was surprised to find that when she decided that these things were her life now, it was as pleasant and comfortable as slipping into a warm bubble bath.

But one thing Felicity refused to surrender from her old, college-days identity - she absolutely, stoutly refused to give up - was coffee. 

Her first ‘big ticket’ splurge item (that hadn’t been furniture) when she’d taken the great job at QC, moved to Starling City and been outfitting her apartment had been one of those fancy coffeemakers that took a cartridge and made a single cup. She rationalized that making more than one cup of coffee for just herself would be a waste and besides, she could afford it now. Right? She kept herself stocked with various coffees: Colombian for that first cup at 6am, then flavored for every other cup throughout the day. There were lots of cups when she was home, and she kept herself well-stocked. 

Coffee was one of the few luxuries she indulged in, and she indulged thoroughly.

>>\------>

Oliver had never discussed much about the island with anyone; he’d kept almost all of that part of his life on a need-to-know basis. Anytime people asked him the standard questions that people always asked in a situation like, ‘what was it like on the island?’ or ‘what did you eat?’ or ‘what did you miss most while you were stranded?’ he almost always gave pat, glib answers. ‘It was cold.’ ‘Whatever I could catch.’ ‘Air conditioning and movies.’ He had no inclination to be honest with most people. Oliver had only given honest answers to Lian Yu questions a handful of times, and only about inconsequential things. He knew the time would come that he would be more open about some of the things that happened there, but that time had not come yet. He trusted most of the people in his life, but not to that level. That time had not come.

It had come with Felicity, although he still did not want to tell her about all of his sins. She loved him; he had finally won her heart and she had agreed to be with him. When she looked at him, he saw nothing but bright, shining love there, and the thought of diminishing that light by telling her what a monster he had been during those five years was abominable. He couldn’t do that, he wouldn’t do that. He trusted her implicitly, but he wasn’t secure enough in himself and his hold on her heart to risk her love. So he would hold on to his secret a while longer. 

But he could tell her other things. He could let other little details slip. Like he could tell her over burgers one night how he had become an expert at cooking over a fire, and could actually prepare her quite a fine meal if she ever wanted to test it. He could tell her the story of some of his tattoos and scars as they lie in bed and she traced her fingers over them lightly. 

And he could tell her what small creature comfort he had actually missed most on the island.

>>\----->

They didn’t stay away from Starling City very long on their trip. Oliver missed Thea and Felicity had a new company to get back to, but they drove home into a completely new life. A domestic life. Together. Oliver ostensibly lived with Thea but stayed with Felicity more often than not. They’d both gotten into the habit of sleeping late, no responsibilities to attend to and more fun things to do at night (late being 7:30 for Felicity and 9 or so for Oliver), and Felicity was a bit relieved to get back to something close to her daily routine and especially early mornings. Oliver was a little more sluggish to get out of a warm bed, curled around the love of his life. He frequently awoke to an empty bed with a note on the nightstand from Felicity telling him she loved him, she’d see him around 9 when he got to the office. 

One night a couple of weeks after they got back, as they lie together after loving, Oliver confessed to Felicity that he’d always missed coffee the most while he was away. He told her that when she’d brought coffee to him the night he’d beaten Ra’s, she didn’t know what that had meant to him, especially after their argument over coffee a year or so prior. He huffed out a laugh, a short apologetic chuckle causing his chest to rise and fall under her ear and hand, when he recalled that he’d never felt so bad about himself since coming back from the island as when he realized he’d made her feel like less of a person that day, and he’d vowed to himself to never ask her for coffee, even if they got out of that top floor. That he wanted to prove to her that they were partners and he wasn’t better than her in any way - in fact, she was better than he could ever be. He just wanted her to love him. He drifted off mumbling about her love, but Felicity lie awake for a while longer, thinking.

>>\----->

Oliver woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee and looked around the room, getting his bearings. Down the hall, he heard the apartment door close and he sat up, scrubbing his face with his hands and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. The smell of coffee got stronger and he shook his head in confusion. He must be dreaming.

He looked down at the nightstand to check the time and see if Felicity left him a good morning note but there was something else. Next to the clock with the LED numbers informing him it was 6:42am, an oversized mug sat, full of steaming, black liquid. The mug was covered in what he assumed was some sort of computer code. Oliver squinted at it for a moment to try to decipher it, then shook his head. He had no idea what it was, but he was certain it was something that made complete sense and was probably funny to Felicity.

He picked up the mug, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic and inhaled deeply, thanking a God he’d stopped believing in around the time he met Slade Wilson for the woman he loved. A slip of paper detached from the bottom and fell into his lap, interrupting the mug’s trip to his mouth. Oliver turned his head and the mug to the side, unable to wait, and blew on the coffee, taking a sip while he picked up the note. The coffee burned his tongue and he hissed and cursed under his breath, instinctively forming his body into a C and holding the mug away from himself to avoid spilling any on his lap and obtaining any unfortunate burns. When he was sure he wasn’t injured, He blew on the coffee some more as he picked up the dropped note and read Felicity’s scrawling penmanship around the damp coffee ring. 

_Oliver,_  
Good morning! Brought you coffee. I thought about what you said last night. I never meant to make you feel bad. Well, maybe I did a little, but not THAT bad. I know we're partners. I just didn't want to take a step back in my career. I know that we're equal, and it makes me so happy. YOU make me happy. I love you, and I want you have the things that make you happy. So here, have some coffee. Hope you like Colombian.  
I love you,  
xoxo,  
Felicity 

Oliver smiled to himself before he blew on the black coffee one more time and took a sip, this time without burning or cursing.


End file.
